My family has been spending a lot of time at the beach lately. Yosemite, Tahoe, San Gregorio Beach.
Watching my kids play in the sand and surf is almost poetic. They sculpt and dig and dump and run and jump. For three hours today, the boys were in their own little world. They worked together like a well oiled machine to dig a deep hole or create a dam or bury their bodies or chase down a wave. I was reminded that the simple pleasures are the most wonderful as the boys laughed with sheer delight at the waves sneaking up on them, knocking them over, pummeling their sand towers.
I got to read my book, Aaron took a little snooze. It was parenthood as I imagined it would be: happy kids, wholesome, outdoor fun, relaxing, fulfilling.
Aaron and I even had a chance to talk, to really connect. I think it's been ages since we've done that. The days are exhausting so at night we're exhausted. Not a good time for soulful discussions.
As it often does these days, our conversation turned to whether or not to have a fourth child. In the course of our three hours at the beach, we decided that we absolutely WILL have a fourth child. And that we absolutely will NOT have a fourth child. We have gone over this and over this so many times that I can barely think straight about it.
Our friend Matt told us that the reason he and his wife finally decided to go for #4 was because they were talking about it and talking about it and they finally realized that they could either keep talking about it or they could just do it. So they did it.
Sometimes I let myself sit with either decision to see how it feels. Neither feels right.
Ultimately we are no closer to a decision now than we were 6 months ago. Sigh.